Awesome Day Right Here
by NotACrapWasGiven
Summary: One-shot. Even cool bros get sick on occasion. T for language.


**A/N: Wow holy shit this took way too long to write oh my god. I'm really sorry, world. You know, for shitting this shit onto you. Really, really, really immensely sorry. I'm not even sure this story has a point. Whatever. Go ahead and read it and review it. Flames are accepted, even welcomed. Have a blast.**

Dave slumped over at his computer. He was chatting with his best bro John Egbert, but he wasn't really feeling it today.

-ghostyTrickster [GT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]-

GT: hey bro

TG: hey egderp

GT: what's up?

TG: absolutely fuckin nothing

GT: sounds like fun

TG: holy fuck is it a blast

TG: the mother of all blasts

GT: where's all the sick rhymes?

TG: in the hospital waiting for treatment

GT: haha

GT: so there's really nothing new?

GT: dave...?

GT: ...

TG: i'm tired i think i'm gonna go soon

GT: tired? but it's like 3:00 there, isn't it?

TG: actually, 3:19

GT: okay man

TG: you should talk to jade maybe shes awake

GT: yeah it looks like she's online

GT: we can talk tomorrow

TG: bye

-turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ghostyTrickster [GT]-

He had to admit he felt a little shitty for treating his friend like that, but he felt shittier about not being in bed. It was definitely time for him to take a nap. As long as he woke up before Bro got home, which he didn't think would be a problem, because he probably wouldn't be home until the next day. Bro sometimes just didn't show up. It was cool, though. Having an apartment to your own self is never a bad thing. Dave lay down in his bed and burrowed under his blankets like a little bunny. A little flying killer bunny. Yeah, that sounds cool. Killer bunnies. Little albino ones just like Dave.

"Lil' man. Bro, wake up."

Dave opened his eyes slowly. His Bro must have flashstepped into his bedroom again. He wished he could say that was not a thing that happened regularly. "What the fuck do you want?" he asked. He forgot to care that naps were uncool and rolled onto his side, trying to ignore his brother.

"Roof," said Bro simply, and then he was gone.

Fuck. It was just like Bro to do that. Wait until he was tired and sluggish for a sparring match. "This is utter bullshit," Dave muttered under his breath. He sat up, and realized it was eight fourteen. He'd been sleeping for five hours already. "Shit..." He shrugged it off and tried to pull himself together. Shitty sword, shades, good running shoes... Everything seemed to be in order. However, he was a little dizzy and tired after that intense napping session. But that was ridiculous. Dave Strider did not get dizzy, nor did he get tired. That was not a thing that happened.

He started upstairs, shivering slightly. Cool bros don't shiver, he reminded himself. They keep themselves warm with their own awesomeness. However that was even more ridiculous than being dizzy and tired. So he continued to shiver inappropriately. He got to the roof and looked around. Fuck, where the fuck was Bro? Was he seriously doing this? Dave readied his sword and waited to be ambushed. He could feel his arms shaking. This was just getting stupid. And then he got kicked in the shoulder blades. He fell down to his hands and knees. After one fucking kick. This was just a fucking awesome day. Oh, wait, the awesome was not yet over. Dave felt his entire body clenching as his insides splattered onto the roof.

"Whoa... Bro?"

Dave pulled himself into a standing position and tried to regain his cool, which would have been easier if he didn't have vomit on his hands. Bro flashstepped next to Dave. "You don't look so hot, bro."

"Bullshit... I don't get sick."

"So you just spewed pure health onto the roof then."

"Yup."

"Come on, you're going back to bed."

Dave, instead of arguing, doubled over and completed his new look by vomiting on his shoes. He straightened up slowly and nodded.

"You done?" asked Bro quietly.

Dave nodded. "For now."

"Good. Come on." Bro put his arm around his brother and helped him down the stairs. "You being all dizzy and shit," he explained. "I don't want to have to take you to the fucking hospital again."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about it." Dave did not like to think of the time he'd fallen down the stairs and cracked open his skull. Especially after his bro warned him. :y

"Okay, fine," Bro said. They were at the bottom of the stairs now. "Can you get to your room?"

"I dunno," he said, glaring at his brother. "My back kinda hurts."

Bro returned the glare, but got the message. "Okay, let's go."

The two of them walked slowly and steadily to Dave's room. Bro deposited the child onto the bed. "I'll bring you a trash can so you don't get your guts on the floor. And then I'll mop up the roof, as ridiculously stupid as that sounds. Take off your shoes. Wipe your hands on this." Bro chucked a damp cloth that he'd gotten from seemingly nowhere in Dave's direction.

Dave did as he was told. He didn't notice anyone coming or going, but there was suddenly a trash can next to his bed. Not a second too late. Apparently his stomach was not empty yet, because he coughed up another mouthful of its contents into the trash. His shades started to slide off his face while he did this, but with one hand he mashed them back onto his face. Even when he was alone, the shades did not come off.

"Dave?"

Dave mumbled a response.

"You okay, lil' bro?"

"I'm fine..."

Bro flashstepped next to him. He pressed his hand to Dave's forehead. "You're burning the fuck up, lil' man..."

"It's not a big deal or anything," Dave said, pulling away. "People get sick. Whatever."

"...Your fever seems really bad. I'd give you some medicine, but you'd probably just puke it back up."

"Whatever, Bro," Dave mumbled. "I'm just gonna fall asleep and shit..."

"Alright lil' bro. You chill here. I got shit to take care of." And with that, Bro vanished.

Just as Dave was drifting off to sleep, his phone buzzed. "Is this a thing that is really happening?" he muttered. He opened up pesterchum to see what it was.

-tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]-

TT: Hello, Strider.

TT: Are you there? It appears you're online.

TG: what do you want rose?

TT: Oh, nice of you to drop in.

TG: shut up i just puked my guts out

TG: what the fuck do you want lalonde?

TT: You're sick?

TG: yeah no fuck

TT: You should probably be resting right now.

TG: what the fuck do you think i am trying to do?

TG: it's hard enough without you pestering me

TG: jesus fuck

TT: Have you notified your "best bro", John?

TG: no

TG: why would i

TG: not like it matters anyway

TT: Hmm

TG: i do not have the energy for your psychology bullshit

TG: i'm going to fucking sleep

-turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]—

He tossed his phone onto a pile of clothes and rolled over, hoping to get some sleep. He was exhausted. He got his wish shortly, drifting off about ten minutes later.

He woke up slowly. Daylight came in through the window, so he could assume it was the next day. About ten twenty-six a.m. He noticed that standing in the doorway was his Bro. Then, Bro was in the middle of the room. And then he was next to the bed.

"Calm your shit, Strider," he muttered to himself. Dave realized his Bro probably couldn't tell he was awake, behind the shades. "Your lil' bro has been fine the last thousand times you checked. He's fine now, too." Dave tried not to react when he felt the hand brushing across his forehead. He looked up as inconspicuously as possible. Was that a real emotion on his brother's face? Worry, even? This was just slightly unsettling.

"Fuck off, Bro..." Dave mumbled sleepily.

"Watch your fucking language," said Bro sternly. He left Dave to sleep in peace.

Dave rolled over and fell asleep again. Sleeping was great. He loved sleeping. He woke up again around four twelve p.m. And there, right the fuck in his face, was Cal. "HOLY FUCK!" he yelled, falling out of bed. "FUCK OFF BRO, YOU'RE SUCH A DICK!"

"Glad you're feeling better, lil' man."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"


End file.
